


Miles To Go

by PocketPrompto



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Minor Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Nyx Ulric, Not Canon Compliant, Nyx Ulric Appreciation Week, Nyx Ulric Lives, NyxUlricWeek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:53:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24811123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PocketPrompto/pseuds/PocketPrompto
Summary: Back in the barracks, when he was still a snot-nosed rookie, he and Libertus would spend their nights talking about where they wanted to go when they were done with their service. What they would do, who they would meet, if they’d ever get married and have kids. Drautos would always tell them not to think so far ahead because they were going to be soldiers and didn’t you know? Soldiers didn’t get futures.
Relationships: Cor Leonis/Nyx Ulric
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Miles To Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 1 of Nyx Ulric Appreciation Week!
> 
> Prompt: Wanderlust
> 
> (I feel like I just barely hit the mark on this prompt so please forgive me, it's been a while ^^' )

“Tenebrae.”

Nyx doesn’t have to look up to know that Cor Leonis is staring at him from across their dying campfire.

The sky is dark so Nyx assumes it’s probably late, but these days the nights are getting longer so maybe it’s actually pretty early. He’d ask Cor to check but the Marshal is currently giving him a pretty significant look and Nyx doesn’t want to really upset the guy.   
  
An uncomfortable amount of time passes before Cor finally looks away, prodding their fire with the end of an already burnt stick. The wood crackles as pieces splinter off and burn to ash and the agitated embers burn bright, illuminating Cor’s face.

Has he always looked so tired?

“Why Tenebrae?” Cor’s rough voice nearly startles Nyx, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t jump. He was trained better than that. Instead, he shrugs and leans back on his tattered sleeping bag, tilting his head to look up at the starless sky.

Nyx slowly raises his arm and stretches his hand outward. It looks so haggard and worn against the unblemished cosmos serving as a backdrop. “Because it always seemed so out of reach, you know?”   
  
“No, I don’t know.”

Nyx snorts, letting his arm drop with a dull thud against his chest. His eyes feel heavy so he lets them slide shut too. When did  _ he  _ get so tired?

“Of course you don’t. You were born and raised in Insomnia, right? A military man...You probably visited Tenebrae all the time with the Kings.”   
  
He tries and fails to keep the bitterness out of his tone because it’s not Cor’s fault where he was born, but sometimes Nyx feels a deep resentment for those who waved around a silver spoon when they were just toddlers. And he knows it’s petty, he knows no one can control the circumstances of their birth but…

“For a Galahdan like myself, it wasn’t as easy as hopping on a boat and sailing overseas. We didn’t have the same resources or even the same opportunities. Even before the wars, travel was difficult. And then afterwards....”

Nyx doesn’t have to finish his sentence. He knows that Cor is more than aware about the refugee situation. 

“When I was still in Galahd though, my mother used to read to me. All the time, gods, the woman was like a librarian. Always had a book or two on her person. Our walls were entirely made out of bookshelves, you couldn’t stop her from reading,” Nyx laughs, and he finds it doesn’t hurt as much to talk about his mom anymore. Not like it did when he first came to Insomnia, all bone and skin with hair barely long enough for his braids, let alone long enough to weave in stories of his family, his people, into every bead and every piece of string used to hold them all together.

His throat would close up and his fingers would tremble. He’s wiped away more tears on Libertus’ shoulder than he’d care to admit but now, it’s more like a delicate clench around his heart. The words flowing from his lips taste bittersweet on his tongue instead of the acidic bile that threatened to burn in his throat whenever he even  _ thought _ of his mother, of Selena, of his land. Some days he thinks he can still taste the ash or feel the static electricity of lightning in the air right before the islands were wiped out.

Nyx opens his eyes because he can feel Cor’s burning holes through him. It might be pity, but Cor doesn’t usually do pity so maybe it’s something else entirely.

“Anyways,” he says and sits up, giving his throat a clearing for good measure. “My mom found this book on Tenebrae and I didn’t really understand the history but it had pictures. And I can still remember, clear as day, this painting of Tenebrae right after Queen Sylva’s coronation. I’d never seen something so...beautiful.”

Cor snuffs out the last of their fire and as the glow of embers fade, the bright blue sigils of the haven they’re currently seeking refuge on start to light up the area. The distant sounds of black miasma bubbling and the shriek of daemons prowling the forest is enough to send shivers up Nyx’s spine.

“What was beautiful about it?” Cor asks, and Nyx can tell he’s settling into his own worn out sleeping bag.

“Well, the geography, for one. Floating islands? Even you have to admit that’s pretty fucking cool.”   
  
Cor huffs through his nose. “With all the shit we’ve seen, floating islands are what you fixate on?”

“Alright, asshole, I mean when I was a kid, yeah, that was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. And after that, it was the flowers. Sylleblossoms,” Nyx says, raising both hands now and making a big sweeping motion, “...covering up almost every piece of walkable land. I used to think whoever painted that must have spilled blue paint all over his canvas and just tried to play it off by making them flowers.”

“How long did it take you to know they were real?”   
  
Nyx clears his throat, looking away because even in their dum lighting, he’s sure Cor would be able to spot his flustered look from here. “I...might have been in my thirties.”

He can  _ hear _ Cor turn to face him, likely with some form of incredulity. 

“Your thirties,” he deadpans.

“Sylleblossoms are rare! It’s not like I was spending all my free time going to florists. And besides, Little Galahd doesn’t even sell regular flowers,” he says defensively, but Cor is already quietly laughing at him from across the way.

Nyx smiles then, and his chest feels so warm that if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that he swallowed a Phoenix Down.

“I didn’t even think about them much until my first meeting with Princess Lunafreya. Her dress was woven with this...fuck, I don’t know, silk material? And there was no mistaking that color of blue. I’d looked through my mother’s book countless times over the years, I'm pretty sure that particular shade is burned into my iris.”

A brief chill slides under Nyx’s skin, like a blanket he can’t shed. Cor is quiet now too and Nyx knows it’s his fault. He hasn’t talked about Luna since...well,  _ since _ . And it’s been a couple years now, but Cor still gets quiet whenever he talks about her. Because Nyx loves Luna. 

Loved.

Nyx  _ loves _ Cor, here and now. 

The silence begins to prick at Nyx’s heart so he sits up and grabs the nearest item (an empty coffee can) and tosses it towards Cor’s prone body. “And what about you?” 

Cor grunts when the can hits his side and he swipes aimlessly at it. “What about me?”   
  
Nyx rolls his eyes. “Where would  _ you _ want to travel to once this is all over. Or did you forget we were playing a game?”

“It’s hard to remember when you talk so damn much,” Cor mutters and Nyx sighs, but a smile is playing on his lips.   
  
“Answer the question, Cor.”

It’s quiet and Nyx is just starting to think that Cor fell asleep when his voice breaks the comfortable silence they’d been stewing in.

“I’d also like to visit Tenebrae...I would like to pay my respects.”   
  
Well, Nyx can’t really argue with that, now can he?

“Then I’ll take you. When...dawn returns, I’ll take you to Tenebrae. Maybe we can retire there,” Nyx chuckles, but it feels a little hollow. Nyx always thought it was weird, planning for a future you didn’t think you’d live to see. 

Back in the barracks, when he was still a snot-nosed rookie, he and Libertus would spend their nights talking about where they wanted to go when they were done with their service. What they would do, who they would meet, if they’d ever get married and have kids. Drautos would always tell them not to think so far ahead because they were going to be soldiers and didn’t you know? Soldiers didn’t get futures.

But lying here, now, on the eve of his 34th birthday with Cor at his side, he thinks that maybe this is a future worth fighting for. Because before he dies, he really would like to see the Sylleblossoms. If only for a moment.

“Alright,” Cor replies. “I’ll hold you to that then.”

Nyx lays back down, casts his eyes up to the sky, and gives a nod to no one in particular.

“Deal.”


End file.
